Ampersand
by Ampersand.Ink
Summary: A decade passes. Sarah has tried to outrun every last ampersand of the Labyrinth's story. What she never counted on was the Labyrinth running to find her. Mystery, Forgotten Pasts and Twists when you thought you were going to Turn. *&*
1. Chapter 1

Ampersand

_The sound of silence tore the air in two._

_Another hiss of pain emitted from the parched lips of one figure, the side of his face pressed against a marble floor by a boot against his neck. _

_Through the coloured panels of glass, the few remaining stars smouldered in a sky bleeding with a copper sunset. _

"_**I have had enough of this merry dance, boy.**_**" **_A frigid voice spat, ringed fingers interlinking with each other in a silent, and dangerous, impatience. _

"_**You have broken every law of this world that there is to break. You have seduced the Labyrinth into believing it is yours. Your treachery, your recklessness, your little bloodsport games are over. You pushed us to the verge of reality by staking the entirety of the dream world to the mercy of one mortal– something not yours to stake.**"_

_Another pause left the baited breath of hundreds clinging onto his every pause. _

"_...**You leave me with no choice...**"_

"_**You have every choice.**_" _The figure's voice hissed, his voice not daring to crack._

"_**From this moment, forth...**"_

"_**Are you forgetting, Captain, who exactly I a..."** _

_His sentence was severed, choked away, as the boot on his neck increased the pressure._

_His hands were bound to his back, elegant fingers woven together by the force of the bindings. The shirt that stuck to his back still shimmered with myriads of colour, a remnant of the grandeur the wearer had once possessed. Now, gashes were struck through its finely woven seams, the threads laced with the scarlet of his own blood. _

_Crimson still streamed down from finely arched eyebrows, droplets clinging to eyelashes that cycled through every colour of the Autumn- if you paused long enough to watch. _

_But no one was watching. _

_The boot finally removed itself from his neck, fingers grabbing the scruff of his ruffled collar to haul the man back to his knees._

_Every eye was instead fixed on his cracked lips, the last traces of magic still clinging to them as they parted slightly, his mind suspended between answer and silence. _

_The Captain of the Guard did everything he could to avoid the boy's gaze. Though he was little more than a man, they still found a way to strike through his very core, sending waves of shivers down his spine. _

_With a final breath of determination, the Captain finally uttered what he had stowed inside his mind for endless hours. _

"_**From this moment, forth, you shall relinquish one third of your crown to the neighbouring Queen, Queen Fion. The other you shall surrender to your army, and to myself, Captain of the Guard. The last remains in your hands..."**_

_An inaudible shudder of relief broke through the figure's skin, sending a small shimmer of the medallion that hung around his neck and rested against his chest. _

"_...r**emains in your hands...knowing you shall be a prisoner of your own Kingdom and that the bloodsport you have tormented mortals with for endless ages shall be put to an end.**"_

"_**My art is no bloodsport. I have only ever done what was asked of me. Humans ask for something to be taken, and I take it without question. It is no fault of mine that the mortals do not keep to their word..."** The man paused, turning his eyes to the fields beyond the Goblin City. "**That they refuse to accept their own dreams...**"_

"_**It is your own dreams that have brought you here, boy. You will follow this bond to the very-**"_

_A sudden defiance sparked through the prisoner's eyes once again. _

"_**To the what, Captain? Be bold. Inspire me. To the word? Even to the letter, perhaps?**"_

"_**No, Jareth."**_

_The Captain dug his nails into his palm as he was forced to meet the gaze of their deposed King. _

"_**You are bound to the very last ampersand."**_


	2. Chapter 2

**AN:/ _welcome to Part 2 of Ampersand :)_**

**_Sorry, I knew I was supposed to put up both on the same day but unfortunately i hit a few potholes in the process. _**

**_But here it is - and I hope this chapter leaves you with a few questions as to where a certain someone has got to?_**

**_x_**

**_Ampersand!_**

* * *

A violent whiplash of lightning split the sky into fragments, dyeing the entire world blue – if only for little more than a second.

The loud roar rolling across the sky forced one figure to jolt out of her sleep, her arms sprawled haphazardly across the sofa she was stretched out on. The television hissed and spat, the signal knocked clean off the screen from the turbulent weather outside.

The girl groaned as she hauled herself up again, clutching her hand to her head as she bumped off of the table next to the chair and stumbled for the light switch.

Light flooded the room, sticking to the figure that had just woken up.

The figure was that of Sarah Williams, no more than twenty-four years of age.

A lot had changed with the passing of an entire decade.

Her hair was shorter, layered, the ends just managing to touch her shoulder. She had also taken the liberty of dying it a deep red mahogany which led to the loving title of "Table-Head" from her half-brother. As the left shoulder of her shirt slid down, as it always did, black ink caught the half-light – the shape of which not many knew the name of.

She had the tattoo done when she was younger – still a freshman in college. Sarah and her friends, with their birthdays all miraculously in May, had grabbed the chance to pool together their money and all ink themselves with a personal mark of punctuation. She still remembered her friends deciding her mark for her.

"_Sarah, you're getting an ampersand and no two ways about it! You only ever settle for 'and' anyway!"_

A sleepy smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. The idea seemed almost silly now, but then – it had been ingenious. Her time had passed in college in what seemed like a blink of an eye, and great friends had parted ways.

Her parents had framed a black and white photocopy of her drama graduation certificate, and had gone as far to film her scattered and wide-ranged television performances on as many three-hour, blank video cassettes they could get their hands on.

"_Table-Head! I'm starved. I'm going to tell Mum that you're not feeding me!_"

"Alright, alright, Toby. Keep that curly mop of yours on."

A mass of blonde curls poked out swiftly from around the doorway. A pale face and two hazel eyes peered narrowly back at her, a small mouth drawn into a temperamental pout.

"It is _soooo_ not a mop. At least _my_ hair isn't the colour of some sort of tree." Toby retorted smartly, prodding a red power-ranger indignantly in her direction.

Sarah stretched, her hand trying to massage the side of her neck. Her oversized poetry shirt, slipped permanently down her shoulder – her sleek navy waistcoat hiding most of the embroidery, although it still managed to show the tiny, black ampersand inked into her skin with ivy vines surrounding it. It seemed some things hadn't changed at all.

Sarah smiled to herself again as Toby dragged her forcefully to the kitchen, led by the unhappy grumbles of his stomach.

* * *

"Sarraahh. Is all you cook those _weird_ pot noddlers?"

"_Noodles,_ Toby, _noodles._"

"Noddles, noodlers, I don't _care_. Find us something to real to _eaaat_." He whined, clambering up on the high-stool around the kitchen's island.

Sarah tapped him over the back of the head affectionately, pulling open the freezer to scan the emptiness that lay before her.

"How about...some..._ice?_."

Toby whipped around to glare at her. Food was not a matter to be toyed with in Toby's world.

"Jeez, lay off the staring. Alright...Phish Food – all round? If Mum asks, Merlin ate it. Deal?"

Toby nodded wildly, his curls bouncing about his face as he followed the ice-cream tub around the room like a hawk.

Sarah began to hum as she spooned out the ice-cream in generous portions, closing the fridge door with a swing of her hip. She quickly regretted it – she was only wearing shorts.

"_Heeey._ I know that tune!" Toby piped up, bobbing as he hummed along. "It was in that music box with the princess in who looks like you! Dad found all your old stuff in the basement. Can I have all of it? I looked through most of your old plays and stuff already."

"Mhmm." Sarah nodded, sliding the bowl of chocolate ice-cream towards him, and placing a flake in her own, precariously holding it away from the table as she nibbled some of the edge, trying to reach for a dessert spoon with her smallest finger.

"_Hey!_ I want a flake too!"

"Nuh-uh. You're too fat already, _Plumpkin._"

Toby radiated fury as he watched her taunt him with the flake, waving her ice-cream bowl in the air, and nibbling it appreciatively as she waltzed around the room.

"_I'll tell Mum you ate the whole tub._"

"I don't care. I've got a _flake._"

Toby thrust out his bottom lip, folding his arms in a huff as he watched her.

"_Want it?_" Sarah asked with a grin, offering him the half-eaten chocolate stick.

Toby nodded, his eyes lighting up at the offer.

"_Can't have it. Want it? Can't have it._" Sarah sang, bursts of laughter breaking through the song as she watched his face fall.

"I wish the Goblins would come and take you away..._right now, _you fat meanie! Give me that flake or I'll tell Dad that you---"

Toby yelped as the bowl shattered on the floor, chocolate splattering all over the floor. He cried out again at noticing the red on Sarah's hand, leaking from a cut on her palm.

"I'm sorry, Sarah! Oh I didn't mean it! Are you mad at me for going through your books? I won't really tell Dad, I was only joking! I'm sorry!"

Toby's voice passed over her head like a blur as she blasted water out of the tap, running her bleeding hand under the icy water.

Sarah didn't reply. She kept very still, straining to hear the slightest crack, rustle or movement. Her eyes widened silently, the silver iris wavering with panic. She jumped as she caught sight of her own reflection in the glass of the window before her.

But there was nothing save for silence.

No sly comments from a haughty voice she vaguely remembered, no entrances made from the shadows..._nothing._

Toby watched her, unnerved at her sudden stillness, her entire shoulders tensed, strands of her scarlet-brown hair sticking to the petrified damp on her cheeks. The silence tormented her – every muscle in her body was ready to jump, to turn and run.

But there was nothing to run from.

Merlin trudged in slowly, his age clear in his shaggy grey coat and deep, brown eyes. His head flopped onto his paws beside her, watching her with his laughably sorrowful eyes.

"_Sarah..._?" Toby asked, quietly, trying to hide the worry that was leaving a feeling of nausea deep in the pit of his stomach.

"_Toby..._I think I over-exhausted myself...take your ice-cream upstairs and you can watch a film, or something...o...ok? Go on."She smiled, the edges of her mouth wavering nervously,

Toby nodded, his worry momentarily forgotten at the chance of a video and ice-cream. Whistling to Merlin, the pair trotted happily through the door to forget their momentary troubles.

Sarah went over to the door, closing it with the weight of her body sliding down it with a heavy sigh. She held her head in her hands, tucking her chin under her knees, watching the reflection of the tattoo on her shoulder glint back at her in the glass doors.

She had done so well – to forget for three months. She had tried time and time again, but something or someone always slipped in a reminder, as if the memory was meant to plague her for the rest of her life.

Whatever lesson or moral she was supposed to have learnt from her time _there_, had blown over her head. Whoever had wanted her to learn something of 'deep value' had obviously failed. She had gone into the maze with her motive and out with her goal, everything else had been ignored, forgotten...discarded.

Save for the eyes of one man.

Sarah had long since forced his eyes from her dreams, from her everyday thoughts altogether. She tried over and over again not to fall back into the trap of dreaming about him, or that place – _ever._

"I seriously need to get out of this house." She murmured, rubbing her forehead and knitting her eyebrows together.

The night seem to crash in on her, blurring before her eyes as she slid down the edge of the cupboards, her fingers tangling themselves in her hair with the feeling of nausea that had twisted inside her for so many years.

But there was one thing Sarah did know.

Toby had called her to be taken – and nobody had replied.

Somehow;

Somewhere,

_Something_, had gone horribly wrong in the Labyrinth.


	3. Chapter 3

**_AN:/ Hello all *gringrin*_**

**_This is Chapter 3 - shorter than I had predicted as I was hoping to fit in the next part where your favourite place actually appears but I decided against keeping you waiting as I reckoned that process would be quite a long one _**

**_As always, your pointing out errors, mistakes, jaggedy bobs and ends, and reviews are allll welcomed with open arms :L_**

**_I hope you enjoy this shorter than anticipated chapter, and I look forward to receiving some feedback/tips/pointers/hugs. :P_**

**_So as a note to begin, this is chapter is M for Mind The Language _**

**_:P_**

**_Thanks again for your story alert/subscriptions reviews and pretty much everything._**

**_I'll shut up now _**

**_Ampersand_**

**_x_**

* * *

Sarah clutched her stiff neck after a relentless night of sleeping on the stone kitchen floor. Her mahogany-red hair clung to the one side of her face that had been pressed against it, her entire right cheek a tell-tale bright red from the chill.

Rampant rays of morning's light fell trough the window blinds, spilling out across the floor where evidence of Toby was still scattered.

She muttered, running a tired hand through her hair as she heaved herself upright, her eyes scanning the chaos that had ensued after her little brother's version of 'self-service'.

A note was stuffed haphazardly into the sleeve of her ruffled poetry shirt, hastily scrawled in a rainbow of colours.

This had Toby written all over it.

_Literally._

'_Table-Head,_

_I've gone to play with the Kelley's for today. _

_Get some rest or something. _

_Mrs. Kelley said I can stay over if you're ill. _

_It's not like I want to eat cup-noddles anyway._

_Toby (Not the Mop-Head!)_

_x'_

The letter had even come signed with a haphazard kiss, and a random drawing of what she assumed to be pot noodles.

Sarah laughed slightly, but regretted it as a stiff twinge shot through her shoulder.

Clunking slowly over to the window-doors, Sarah peered sleepily at her own reflection, her eyes falling to the tattoo on her shoulder.

Specks of some sort of glitter had dusted her skin, sticking to the inked ampersand on her collarbone. It didn't catch the light as she thought it would, even as she held up a speck on the tip of her finger and raised it to the sunlight.

"_Weird._" She grumbled, trudging to the laundry room to stare at the pile Karen had left her.

Suddenly, the promise of one hundred dollars for taking care of Toby had lost its charm. The laundry room had always been dark. She supposed the sheer amount of clothes simply absorbed all light that found its way there.

She stared at the unwashed pile of Toby's clothes.

Eleven-year-old _boy's_ clothes.

Shuddering, she prodded them with her foot.

"Eurgh. Never again. Never fricken ever. It's probably radioactive and everything." She muttered to herself, stretching before even attempting to bend down at this time of the morning.

She raised her arms over her head and stood up on the tips of her toes, trying, and failing, to make the ache in her shoulder go away by forceful stretching.

"It would seem the rumours held true. The years have blessed you, _Sarah Williams._"

A soft voice interrupted the silence, seeping through the air like a long-forgotten melody.

She clapped her hand to her mouth, grabbing tufts of her hair as her eyes widened groggily in panic, her gaze darting frantically from shadow to shadow.

In her panic, she whirled around – where her search stopped dead.

A tall, elegant frame waited in the doorway, with folded arms and the barley visible glint of a smile.

In one, fluid motion the man swept into a deep bow, a feathered cavalier's hat between his fingers.

"Milady." His voice rolled softly, rising up to his impressive full height before her.

Sarah clung to the edge of the washing machine, her mouth opening & closing like a dazed fish. The light filtering through from the kitchen seemed to distort around the edges of his ruffled shirt, his layered and unruly coffee coloured hair tumbling just below his nimble shoulders.

A pair of mismatched eyes glittered back at her, accompanied by a smile that most would be cautious of -

but the resemblance was far too great for her to ignore.

"J...J..._Joblin...Goblin King_...?" Sarah's voice withered in mid-air, her hands beginning to shake.

The ever so slightly surreal figure before her bowed his head with a sad smile.

"_Not quite._"

Sarah looked up sharply, her eyebrows knitted together in confusion.

"I am Riordan." He paused, placing the feathered hat back on his head.

"_His half-brother._"

* * *

"_Half...brother._"

Sarah murmured the words to herself over and over again, her heart pounding in her ears, her vision beginning to blur as a faintness seeped over her mind and her knees.

A replica of the amulet she remembered from so long ago hung around his neck, glimmering as she backed away.

His smile curved at the edge of his mouth, a flash of a pointed grin and a devastatingly cool, mismatched gaze reflecting the impressive splendour of enjoying the world at a much greater height than her own.

"You're telling the truth, aren't you?" She asked wearily, in acceptance more than question.

Sarah's knees buckled against the wall, her eyes closing as she cursed.

"_Fuck, he's telling the truth._"

Her face fell into her hands, her shoulders sagging as the weight of realisation was finally thrown on them like a ton of bricks.

After ten years of forcing the Labyrinth away, despite all her efforts, it had come to find _her._ She had striven to protect Toby from ever finding out about what had happened. She had questioned herself to the edge of reason to wonder if it had ever even happened at all.

Tears of frustration slipped down from her tired eyes, bashing the wall with her fist in defeat.

"I am not here to force you back. I need your help, Sarah Williams – and it is within my power to also help you. I believe ten years harbours more questions than one person can ever venture to answer on their own, no?"

Sarah peered at him through her fingers, her grey eyes still distrusting of the figure who bore far too much a likeness to the man who had forced her to run his Labyrinth.

She still refused to even think his name.

"How do I know I can trust you?" She asked quietly, cautiousness, and the remnants of the fourteen year old girl she had once been, leaking into her words.

"You have my word." He replied, his eyes casting themselves to the floor.

Sarah raised an eyebrow at him, folding her arms and stretching her legs out across the laundry room's tiles.

"And that's all I'm supposed to go on? The word of the Goblin King's brother?"

"_Half_-Brother. And I'm afraid it is all I have to give."

Sarah pushed herself from the floor, still shaking gently, not quite daring to look the man in the eyes.

"You're going to have to give me a very good explanation before I even consider what you're asking. You'd better get thinking."

"I expected no less from the woman who razed Jareth's Kingdom to the ground." He smiled, his voice laced with a hint of what Sarah could have sworn was a laugh.

* * *

Sarah stared at the parchment that Riordan had outstretched to her, its bright red seal glistening in her eyes.

_Did she want to know? _

Slowly she took the paper from his fingers, running her fingernail underneath the wax. It broke in half, unfolding the letter neatly in her hands.

The black ink on the page was tiny, cramped onto the paper in long reams of text that she had to strain her tired eyed to read.

Her eyes fell to the signature, but it was not the one she expected.

"..._Queen Fion_? Who in God's name is that?" She exclaimed, nibbling on the end of her thumb, waving the note in Riordan's direction.

She looked up expectantly as she noticed his pause.

But he told her nothing, his eyes flickering over the floor in silence.

"Alright. What the heck is going on?" She sighed in annoyance, folding her arm to skim-read the official looking document.

"_This is to inform, you, Duke Riordan...blah,...this day forth, blah blah...relinquish two-thirds of his crown...blah..._wait..._what_?" Sarah choked, her eyes re-running the sentence over and over as it refused to slot into her mind.

Her mouth hung open as she read the rest of the note, her breath suspended in her throat as her eyes widened further and further.

She snapped her head up to him, her entire face riddled with questions – and expecting answers.

"The tension throughout the whole Kingdom is not only obvious, but rife. I have managed to keep argument from breaking for barely over a year. I fear I cannot keep it up for much longer. Jareth will want their blood on a platter if this continues any further...and I know I will not be able to stop him from what I dread he will do again-" Riordan trailed off, adjusting a long, curled feather in his hat.

"..._Again ? _Has this happened...before?"

Riordan looked up, his eyebrows raised in surprise before shaking his head with a less than reassuring smile.

"No, no. Slip of the tongue. To the point, Sarah, you are the only one who has ever beaten the Labyrinth. We are only creatures controlled by it – perhaps they would listen to you...if they're not past the point of still hearing reason."

"I..." Sarah bit her lip, her fear deflating as the reality of her situation this time around hit home.

What would Toby think? By the way Riordan was talking she hardly thought this was a day trip. How was going to explain to Karen and her father that she had ditched all and legged it to elope with a tall, feathered stranger?

"You have my word, Sarah. Do I have yours?" He begged quietly, pleading etched onto his regal features.

"Why does he deserve my help?" She stated flatly, biting the edge of her thumb again as she waited for his answer and avoided his watchful eyes.

"Miss Williams." Riordan said stonily, the amulet against his chest glistening as he spoke. "I asked myself the same question countless times- for a reason you wouldn't yet understand. This is for the Labyrinth, not for you. The Labyrinth is as alive as you or I. Trust me when I say it needs your help."

Sarah took a step back.

This man, who resembled The Goblin King far too much for her liking, had not only intruded her home but had now insulted her, implying she was no less than a selfish little girl.

But he was right.

"Can I count on your word?" He asked again, a sense of desperate finality lingering on his sentence, his long, elegant fingers drumming against his leg in anticipation.

Sarah paused, her lips parted. The breath held in her lungs would determine her answer – but even she didn't know what that would be.

Could she trust herself to face _him_, after ten years? After refusing what she had come to realise was a lot more than a simple offer of her dreams?

How _could_ she go back? How could she even look him in the face after so many years of his trying to seep back into her dreams – of being forced out of them?

The questions twisted and turned in her stomach, and stampeded through her head in the pause that seemed to last forever.

Finally, the breath escaped her lungs.

After ten years of running, Sarah Williams threw all caution to the wind and jumped into an irreversible decision.

"_You..._"

She forced herself to match Riordan's dual coloured gaze, a chill crawling up her spine as memories flooded her mind again – as if his eyes had been the key to an unwilling lock.

"_You have my word._"


	4. Chapter 4

**A:N/ This is for my wonderful cousin, Petrol **

**I hope you enjoy this chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it **

**:D**

**Ampersand**

**x**

* * *

The sunrise oozed like syrup through the circular window and trickled onto the curled up figure of Sarah Williams – intoxicated by the weight of magic in the air.

She hadn't a clue how long she had now been in the abandoned rooms of the Goblin Castle – all she remembered was Riordan promising his return as she had passed out from the sheer load of the air on her senses.

Her stomach grumbled angrily as she stretched her arms above her head, pressing her boots against the wall, watching the gilded ceiling above her.

She could hear the chatter and bustle of what she presumed was usual castle life outside the heavy wooden door; cheerful voices exchanging morning's greetings in an almost song-like tone.

She longed to join the excitement that seemed to be rife outside the door, but not a single soul had entered. Riordan had told her the room was abandoned – but all she wanted was to see a friendly face, a smile…a friend.

A knot twisted in Sarah's stomach as her head lolled towards the door. The weight of the magic-laced air was too great for her to stand up on her own yet, but her mind was clearing faster than she wanted it to.

Hoggle, Ludo, Sir Didymus…even the little worm. She had forgotten them all because of her unbreakable need to forget everyone and everything from the Labyrinth. In her spite, she had abandoned them too.

What would they say if they saw her now?

Would they even recognise her?

Sarah sighed miserably, her boots tapping the wall in boredom and in fear.

"I forgot – mortals never did do well inside stone walls." A familiarly soft voice whispered, the door cracking open as a boot poked through the gap.

Sarah hauled herself up quickly, regretting it as soon as she began to sway – coloured lights dancing before her eyes as her heart pounded with fear.

"…Sarah? Are you there?" The voice came again, asking quietly and almost in fear.

"Riordan? Oh thank God! Get me out of here, my head is killing me."

The door opened quickly whilst the tall figure of Riordan crept past it, a package wrapped in some form of silk under his arms.

But before Sarah could take another step to greet him, a smaller figure darted out and collapsed into a heap of a curtsey.

"Lady Sarah!" The voice breathed, a head of butterscotch curls bowing before her, pointed ears poking out from behind them.

"Woah, woah, woah! Who are…who are you?"

"Sarah, this is Solanne. She is one of Jareth's handmaids but her loyalties lie with me. She'll be your sole protector here when I'm busy distracting Jareth from discovering where you hide…"

"…Hide?!" Sarah asked incredulously, her voice barely more than a breaking whisper.

The deadly, silent pause hung through the air frigidly as Sarah's eyes widened at them both.

"He doesn't know I'm here, does he?"

Solanne turned her head to Riordan quickly, her expectant expression on her petite face giving them away completely.

Sarah's clapped her palm to her forehead, letting it slide down her face in anguish.

"Well- I'm screwed then." She exclaimed cheerfully, the sarcasm layering over her voice.

Solanne stifled a small gasp, but kept her eyes to the floor.

Riordan, on the other hand broke into laughter, immediately taking to her fiery personality.

"Sarah, I gave you my solemn word I'd keep you safe." He smiled, tipping his feathered hat to her from the doorway. "I think we've all had enough of doom and gloom lately. I'm afraid we can't stop here for long – court assembles in a matter of minutes. Solanne will escort you to the West Wing, where you are more than a welcome guest there. I'll leave it to my brilliant maid to get you out of her safely. Espionage is more her field than it is mine." He winked, pressing his ear against the door as the sound of marching echoed quietly from the outside world.

Sarah crouched down to Solanne, her eyes flickering quickly over her amazingly pointed ears.

"It's lovely to meet you – but please…just call me Sarah. I'm no one of title." She smiled awkwardly, taking the girl's hand to shake it warmly.

"Solanne, I think it's best we all get moving. Let her rest until court is over. Undoubtedly, the change of air here will be more than fatiguing for her. Under no circumstances will you answer the door to anyone."

"Of course, Sire."

"Solanne." Riordan said dangerously, his eyes flashing quickly in warning at her.

Solanne pursed her lips quickly in realisation before picking herself from the floor to brush off her skirts, still grasping Sarah's hand as the footsteps from outside drew closer and closer.

"I'll leave you in Solanne's excellent care. Until next time." Riordan grinned devilishly, sweeping into a bow as he removed his hat in a flourish.

"You have a pretty name." Sarah smiled, her mind barely functioning as wave after wave of a dizzying nausea spread through her head.

Her knees began to buckle, but Solanne's surprisingly sturdy arm caught her before they gave way.

"It means something or other to do with the Sun." She grinned back, her hazel eyes like beams of sunlight in themselves, her creamy complexion and butterscotch locks giving her the essence of the star itself.

"My uncle also works in the Court, The Court of Helios. Namesakes… there are far too many." She joked light-heartedly, supporting Sarah's weight on her small frame with amazing ease.

Random syllables began to pour out of Sarah's mouth; her eyes glazing over in an exhausted daze as her head lolled forward from the sheer strength it took to stay somewhat upright.

"Oh dear." Solanne murmured, pressing the back of her fingers to Sarah's forehead. "We'd best move you from here quickly."

Sarah gurgled a reply, half-watching Solanne's hand light up as she touched one of the marble walls. A ripple effect of gold light spread across it like a raindrop in a pond, an image of another room replacing what had been there only seconds ago.

"Whatthehell?" Sarah slurred, her eyebrow raising and falling sleepily.

She garbled as Solanne began to walk directly into the image in the wall, all light distorting as a cool blast ran over Sarah's skin only to find her in an entirely different change of scene.

* * *

The feathers in Riordan's hat fluttered and bobbed as he walked briskly through the empty hallways of the castle. His half-brother must have lost his mind when he had rebuilt the castle. Jareth had buried the court of Helios deep within the Palace walls, ready to catch the next incompetent fool who thought they could make their way through his obsession with mazes and puzzles.

The fanfare of trumpets echoed through a hundred hallways, his head snapping up from his thought.

"Damnation – I'm late." He cursed to himself, his eyes flickering over the walls in hope of finding the time.

His black deerskin boots echoed against the mosaic tiles, the emblem against his extravagant, ruffled cream shirt dangling as he picked up his pace.

Time seemed to be against him, as the guard finally came into view, the owl-shaped pillars guarding the doors of monstrous proportions. The guards nodded their heads curtly in respect as the doors swung open to reveal a bustling glitter of court – the Court of Helios.

A dusky glow embraced the courtroom that was bustling with various Fae.

A short, stout man rushed forward with velveteen coat tails trailing behind him quickly.

"His excellence, Duke Riordan." He bellowed, his voice far exceeding his unimpressive height.

Silence embraced the court as the majority fell into a bow before him as Riordan shot the ladies of the court a grin whilst walking to his usual place.

"Finally decided to grace us all with your presence, have we?" A rich voice hissed into his ear, a tall figure leaning over the oaken arm of a chair.

"Knew you'd understand, Jareth." Riordan replied light-heartedly, whacking him on the back as he settled into his velvet-lined seat.

Jareth hissed as the pain blazed across his back, shoving Riordan in the shoulder as he ground his teeth.

"Do you have some form of mental affliction?" He spat, rubbing his temples with his gloved hands as the pain ebbed slowly away.

Riordan's face twisted in pity, his eyes scanning over the raw gashes still visible through the gauzy fabric of Jareth's shirt.

"Still at it, are they? Damned bastards."

"And here they discussing the best time for the festival. How I despise them."

"Ooh! The festival. I've been up for a sword-fight!" Riordan grinned, turning his attention to Jareth's face.

The smile was wiped from his mouth as he watched his half-brother's unimpressed face – his blonde eyebrow rising delicately in the half-glow of the courtroom.

Riordan's head turned, scanning those who had turned up at court to see and be seen.

He sneaked an elegant wave to the ladies of the court, grinning mischievously only to receive a sharp nudge from Jareth's elbow.

The majority of the dim-witted nobility were in their respective places, fanning themselves and adjusting their cravats as they craned their necks from their gilded balconies. Feathers from cavalier's hats like his own fluttered between the crowd of Fae, jeweled masks glittering back as he watched them all.

"I see Fion hasn't bothered to rear her ugly head – again." Riordan said quietly, covering his mouth with the side of his hand.

"Evidently not. Neither has that slippery Captain of mine."

"I'd ignore all that Jareth. If they decide to host the Festival of Court, then you are just going to have to push that to your priority."

"It's the last thing I need. Especially with all that has arrived through my castle walls."

Riordan's head snapped around to meet Jareth's frosted gaze.

"...A...arrived?" He asked quietly, his voice almost wavering.

"Oh open your eyes, Riordan! The tension between everyone – they might as well have War stamped across their foreheads."

Jareth turned, narrowing his eyes at Riordan as if he had gone completely mad.

"It's instances like that – that give me that twinge of distrust in you, Riordan. Your face was enough to make anyone think you're hiding... something from me."

Riordan laughed, the knot of sickening fear in his stomach unweaving nervously.

"I'm almost beginning to think the festival will do you good." Riordan sighed waving away Jareth's accusations.

Riordan folded his arms in a sense of victorious finality, turning his attention back to the furious and flying debates of court.

"But, my Lord, the Festival of Court is perfectly suited to this fine weather. It would certainly lighten the mood of..._late._"

The court paused for a moment, the obvious direction of the jibe making Jareth tense in his seat, the squeak of his leather gloves clenching to a fist echoing loudly in Riordan's ear.

"_Ignore it._" Riordan hissed quietly, leaning across his seat to Jareth's ear.

"What would your opinion be on the matter, Sire?"

Both Riordan and Jareth looked up in unison at the prestigious title, but Riordan laughed off his mistake and gestured for his half-brother to speak.

"By all means, let the festivities continue. One third of a man is hardly enough to stand in your way, after all." He said dangerously, crossing his boots on the railing before his seat, coolly forcing him to meet his gaze.

"_Sire._" The man gulped, making a point of bowing low.

"Very nice touch." Riordan grinned, leaning into Jareth's ear again.

Jareth nodded in reply, his eyes still fixed coldly on the man who had dared ask for his opinion. A few years earlier, he would not have dared to ask such a question. It seemed power was trickling from his hands much faster than he would have liked.

"With his majesty's opinion – the court of Helios is dismissed."

Bubbling chatter filled the room once more, as Fae streamed through the gilded doors and the ladies of the court waved coyly to Riordan from behind their masks.

Riordan stood up, streching and adjusting the feathers in his hat.

He didn't bother to look back, knowing that Jareth would have already transported himself elsewhere – so short as his patience was.

The empty courtroom lay before him, in all its cold grandeur as he closed his eyes and felt the prickle of magic crawl up his skin, his location distorting into another – the West Wing.

* * *

His hand reached for the jewelled door handle, opening it quietly, tipping his hat to the figure of Solanne who was pacing the room, her hands clasped together in worry. Her curls flew round as she darted over to him in relief.

"Oh thank goodness you're here! Riordan there's something you need to see..."

"Solanne you and your worrying." He smiled, looking around the large room. "And where is Sarah? Is she alright?"

"Sire..."

"_Solanne._" He hissed, closing the door quickly.

"You need to see this..."

Riordan took one glance at Solanne's hazel eyes pricked with fear and followed her quickly to were Sarah lay, sleeping peacefully over a chaise-longue.

"She's fast asleep...I see nothing the matter." He said quietly, taking off his hat to hold it between his fingers.

Solanne silently drew back the silken sheet that Sarah was under, the light falling on the tiny tattoo of the ampersand ingrained into her skin.

Riordan flinched and drew back, the breath knocked from his lungs as his eyes quivered over the tiny mark.

"Solanne...do you know what this means for her?" He breathed, the words barely able to fall past his lips.

Sarah murmured sleepily, quite comfortable despite the horror her onlookers felt.

"Jareth is bound to the last ampersand...does that not mean..." Solanne exclaimed quietly, barely able to look upon the mark.

"It means...that she can never leave until his contract is destroyed or...." Riordan whispered in anguish, his voice trailing off in despair.

"...or time itself reversed." Solanne finished for him, her fingers clutching the edge of her blue skirts.

Riordan's eyes flickered across Sarah's unknowing face as a sick nausea rose to the surface of his stomach.

"...Dear mercy..."

"_What have I done?_"


End file.
